(this will be the last post on this topic at least for a while; I promised Ben)
Okay, so seriously. The exploding poo is NOT stopping! We went up another size in diapers (thanks for the tip, Megan!). Can I just duct tape them to her back in an attempt to create an airtight seal that poo cannot permeate?
ICK! This time, it soaked through my pants and underwear. And, in some freak of nature, it barely got onto Abby's outfit despite getting alllll over my own clothing and the chair upon which we were sitting. Is this what we can expect until potty training succeeds?!? NO ONE TOLD ME ABOUT EXPLODING DIAPER POO!!!! I might rescind earlier statements about vomit; poo smeared all over me might just gross me out the most. But then again, I haven't been vomited upon.
In the meantime, we're having fun throwing our legs in the air and rolling over all while making cute, pay-attention-to-me-cause-I'm-just-cute-(and smart) noises.
(The lactation consultant at the hospital where we delivered told us a story about when she just had her daughter, who is now a teenager, that she thought how unfair it was that girl babies were always referred to in diminuitive terms like "cute" and "precious" while boys get stronger adjectives like "smart." So, whenever she told her infant daughter how beautiful she was (which, I have come to discover, is impossible to avoid because it's oh so true), she always told Kate that she was smart, too. Ben and I have decided to follow her example. We do have a beautiful daughter; and she's smart, too!!)